


the second l'manberg festival

by froogy



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, angst I guess?, as he should, festival pog, fuck quackity /j, quackity doesn't listen, ranbox, tubbo in a box but instead it's ranboo, tubbo shouts at some bitches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:42:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28567146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froogy/pseuds/froogy
Summary: [ the second l'manberg festival ]at the festival, everything goes wrong. this is the aftermath, kind of.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 131





	the second l'manberg festival

**Author's Note:**

> this is just something i thought would be interesting to write out, especially since the festival is today !! this was also kind of a self-indulgent fic, since i really just want tubbo to shout at some bitches !! i might keep writing this, but i also want to write a tommy tubbo angst,,,, so we will see !!
> 
> i also tweet about dsmp lore on my twitter, @HALFAHE4RT :]

The sun beats down on the now-empty festival seating, turning the wood uncomfortably warm. The buildings surrounding the presidential deck offer little shade as the midday sun cascades over L’Manberg. 

“Big Q, I really don’t think violence is the answer here.” Two figures stand at the center of the deck, next to a hastily constructed wooden box. Ranboo’s face peeks out through the iron bars, his eyes darting occasionally to the bucket of water that Fundy holds threateningly close.

“Tubbo, he’s a traitor, Tubbo! He’s been working with- with Technoblade, of all people.” Shrill arguing rings out and echoes dully off of the surrounding buildings. “He’s a traitor.”

“Still, I don’t-” Tubbo looks over his right shoulder and catches Ranboo’s eye, who gives him a nervous nod and a smile. Tubbo returns the gesture, then turns back to look at the man in front of him, dressed head to toe in netherite armor. “I don’t think we should execute Ranboo, Big Q.”

“Ohhhh, you’re just so sweet, aren’t you? You’re just the kindest- Tubbo like da bee, huh? Awww.” Quackity clasps his hands to his chest in a mockery of Tubbo, his voice becoming saccharine and derisive, with a simpering smile to match. 

“Quackity, what’s- what’s gotten into you?” Tubbo’s smile, which up to this point has been carefully fixed onto his face, slips and falls away. The other man sighs, a long suffering sigh, paired with an eye roll. 

“Just do it, Tubbo. You know what happens to traitors.” He waves his hand carelessly, feigning indifference. “Hurry up now, you’re wasting everyone’s time.” 

Tubbo bristles. “Quackity, when I became president, when I last talked to- to…” He trails off, then gives himself a shake and refocuses. “Well, I promised I wouldn’t become Schlatt. I promised to bring peace to this country, and that’s not going to end now.” 

“Pfft. Empty words from an empty president who can’t even enforce his own rules. Look at your citizens, your people, Tubbo.” Quackity puts a hand onto Tubbo’s shoulder, and he stiffens. “Look at them all wearing armor in the middle of L’Manberg.” Out of the corner of Tubbo’s eye, he sees Sam slowly take off his helmet, and he smiles inwardly. 

“Well- I-” Quackity leans in, making his tone friendly, almost conspiratorial. 

“This is for the good of the country, Tubbo. Our country.” Tubbo glances sideways at Quackity, who gives him an encouraging smile. “C’mon, Tubbo. For L’Manberg.” He gives Tubbo a shake and a small squeeze, and Tubbo shifts so that Quackity’s hand drops limply to his side. 

“Well-” 

“Tubbo, Tubbo, Tubbo, Tubbo.” Quackity shakes his head, taking a step towards the younger with every repetition of his name. “Traitors need to be dealt with, swiftly and with justice. We need to make an example of Ranboo before- before it happens again.” 

“Happens again- wha- What do you mean, ‘again’?”

“Oh, Tubbo, you stupid child.” Quackity shakes his head, almost patronizingly. “History repeats itself, you know.” 

“Of course I know that, I’ve been here since the literal beginning, Big Q. Don’t try and feed me that ‘cycle of history’ bullshit.” 

“Oooh, well if you’re so wise,” Quackity interjects, widening his eyes and gesturing towards Tubbo. “Why don’t you tell me who will betray us next, huh? Fundy?” The fox’s head jerks up, startled. “Me?” Quackity takes another step towards Tubbo. “You?” 

“Well, who else is there to betray?! Who’s left, Big Q?!” Tubbo spins away from Quackity, pacing restlessly down the terrace. Pivoting back around, he runs a hand through his hair, which is slightly overgrown. “Big Q, I’m alone! Ranboo’s the only one who’s been by my side. Not even you were there, and you promised me you’d be my right hand man. Remember?” Tubbo looks directly into Quackity’s eyes, searching for a glimpse, a hint, for anything. 

“Well, I-” Quackity sighs, rubbing his neck frustratedly. “Tubbo, you’re being selfish.” His tone shifts to become gentler, almost persuading. “Just- Think about it, Tubbo. We need to set an example.” He looks expectantly at Tubbo. 

“N-no, no, we don’t?! Well, not through violence, that is?” Tubbo shakes his head almost wildly, his voice rising in pitch. 

“Ohh, well. What are you suggesting, another of your stupid trials?” Quackity casts a smug look at the people down below and spreads his arms, playing to the audience. “We all remember how well that worked out, didn’t we?” 

There are scattered cheers, and a hearty “YEAH!” from Sapnap, and Quackity turns, satisfied, back to face Tubbo.

“W-well-” Tubbo stammers, blinking down at the people below. “It’d be the fairest way to do it-” Quackity bursts into laughter, forcing Tubbo to trail off.

“Fair? That shit is not fair and we all know it.” 

“I- I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but I am not executing Ranboo. He’s my friend, and even if he’s a- a traitor, I-” 

“Oh?! He’s your friend, is he? Well, traitors of a feather flock together, don’t they.” Quackity’s tone twists and becomes ugly, a cruel smile marring his features. 

“Wh- I-” Tubbo’s mouth opens then closes, the young boy taking a shocked step back. Quackity mirrors his movements, stepping forward until his outstretched finger is jabbing into the younger’s chest. 

“You know what? I think you’re unfit to be president, Tubbo. I think you’re selfish and cowardly and weak.” Tubbo’s eyes flash at this, and he swipes an angry hand across his cheek.

“Get away from me, Quackity.” Quackity’s smile only grows wider and more dangerous looking, and he takes a slow step back. 

“Awwww, whatcha gonna do? Cry?” Fundy snickers from behind Quackity. Tubbo closes his eyes for a second, regaining his composure. 

“No, I am not going to cry, Quackity.” Pushing his way past the older man none too gently, Tubbo walks back to the center of the deck. 

“There isn’t going to be an execution today, folks. You can go home. Sorry about the festival.” Keeping his tone deliberately light and good-natured, he turns to look at the small crowd gathered below. Karl grumbles and pouts, but is led away by a bored looking Sapnap.” 

“Laaaaame,” Quackity jeers from behind Tubbo. “Booooo. Bo-ring.” Quackity jerks his head, and Fundy scurries over, a vicious grin displaying his sharp canines, offering the water bucket. Quackity, giving Tubbo a cocky smile, dips his hand into the water bucket and flicks it at Ranboo. Radio static suddenly blips out, causing Tubbo to jump and Fundy to wince, his smile faltering for a second.

“Aah!” Ranboo zaps and tries to teleport, but the walls keep him enclosed, causing him to bang his head on the ceiling. Quackity erupts into raucous laughter, accompanied by the high pitched laughs that come from Fundy. At the sound of laughter, the departing figures turn around, some of them moving closer to the platform. 

“Quackity!” Tubbo runs past Quackity and wraps his hands around the iron bars, accidentally nudging the bucket. Water sloshes over the side and spills over Tubbo’s shoes, washing into the cell. Ranboo yelps and scoots into the far corner of the cell, sending Quackity and Fundy into peals of laughter. Tubbo grits his teeth and shakes himself a little, instead focusing on the tall figure huddled in the corner of the box. “You alright, Ranboo?”

“Y-yeah, I’ll, uh. I’ll be fine for now.” Ranboo gives an awkward smile and thumbs up, his limbs uncomfortably positioned as he shrinks away from the water inching towards him. Tubbo turns back around to face Quackity, who’s grin has grown almost sadistic. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Tubbo whirls around to look at Fundy, who gives a shrug, struggling to stifle his giggles. “Do you- You think this is funny?”

“Well..yeah, kinda,” Fundy clears his throat and pulls a straight face, then immediately dissolves into giggles as he makes eye contact with Quackity. 

“Oh, come on, Tubbo. It’s just a joke.” Quackity spreads his hands, palms up in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay, okay, Fundy, stop. Oh my god, Fundy, it’s not funny.” 

“Okay, okay!” Fundy sets the bucket down, shooting a hurt look at Quackity.

“Big Q, when did you change?” Tubbo looks at Quackity, really taking him in for the first time. He’s still wearing the bloody apron from the Butcher Army, and there’s a cruel curve to his smile that wasn’t there before. “When did you become so bloodthirsty? So cruel?” 

“Well, Mr. President,” Quackity smirks, “When did you become so selfish, so power hungry, huh?”

“Shut up, Big Q.” Tubbo digs his nails into his palm, willing his breathing to stay steady. 

“You exiled your best friend, Mr. President.” Quackity spits the title like acid. “‘Dweam, Deam, please escort Tommy out of my country’,” he mocks in a high pitched voice. “You betrayed us, Tubbo.” His eyes darken as he once again walks towards the other boy, finger pointing accusingly. “You. Betrayed. Us.” Punctuating each word with a step, he forces Tubbo to step backwards until the latter feels the edge of the platform drawing near. 

“Big Q-” 

Quackity laughs in his face, a dark, threatening laugh. “Ha. Once a traitor, always a traitor, right?” 

Tubbo switches to his sword for a split second. 

Quackity jerks back, his eyes widening for a split second before his face morphs into one of glee. 

“Ohohoho, so the horns are finally coming out.”

“Shut the fuck up, Quackity,” Tubbo snarls, the venom in his voice startling both himself and his counterpart. “I’m so sick and tired of hearing ‘selfish’ this and ‘weak’ that, ‘traitor’, when you and I both know perfectly that if I hadn’t exiled Tommy, Dream would’ve built those obsidian walls until build limit, and trapped us all inside. He would’ve had us all in a cage, at his mercy and under his control.” 

“Tommy had a plan, Tubbo! You just don’t listen, do you?!” 

“I don’t listen?! Oh, so you’re going to turn this on me?!” Tubbo feels his throat becoming raw, but his heartbeat races in his ear and drowns out all other noise. “I’ll have you remember, Quackity, that before he was your friend, Tommy was my best friend. And-”

“Yes!! He was your best friend, Tubbo, and you still betrayed him for- for what? For the approval of Dream? For power?!” 

“I never wanted Dream’s approval, Quackity! Do you ever just shut up and listen?!” The anger in his voice tastes bitter in his mouth as Tubbo takes a breath, watching the man standing a few feet away from him reel in shock. 

“Have I ever once abused my power? Have I ever?!” The dark-haired man is silent, eyes darting rapidly from the crowd below to Tubbo to Ranboo, whose cell sits in the middle of the two. “Tell me, Quackity! I want you to say it.” 

“What do you call lying to all of us, then turning around and siding with Dream, then?” Quackity’s eyes blaze dark triumph as they meet Tubbo’s. He scoffs. “Wow, you must really hate Tommy, don’t you? You really chose power and a position over your best friend.” 

“Don’t you dare drag Tommy’s name into this again. I’ve told you over and over and over and over, I regret exiling him as well. I regret having to make that choice in the first place. If it was me, there wouldn’t even be talk of exile because I’d listen to my friends! I’d listen to him, and to you, and I would respect you. I would actually have an ounce of respect.”

“Well, I’m not going to respect someone who’s done nothing but betray his own country, even as the president. That’s all you’ve done, Tubbo. All you’ve done is lie and betray and backstab- You know who that reminds me of? Schlatt, Tubbo. And I worked under him. I would know.” 

“Have you forgotten that I worked under him too? I wasn’t just a spy for Pogtopia, I was Schlatt’s right hand man. I saw firsthand the things power did to that man, the way it destroyed him. Do you think I would go down that same path?!” 

“Yes. Because you have, Tubbo. Exiling your citizens? Lying to your cabinet? Making final decisions without consulting us?! Everything you’ve done, Schlatt did first.” 

“And I only had to do that because you wouldn’t let me speak, Quackity! I only had to lie because you would’ve forced me to make the wrong decision! You don’t respect me, and you never have. That’s been apparent this whole time. And frankly, I’m sick of it.” Tubbo walks towards the center of the platform, Quackity mirroring him, walking backwards. “You can villainize me all you want, you can call me Schlatt to your heart’s content, because I know you will never respect me. And I am done being spoken over. I am done being silenced.” Tubbo walks over to Ranboo’s cell, where the half-enderman has slumped down against the wall, legs tucked up to avoid the damp floor. “Get up, Ranboo. Let’s get you out of there.” 

“Oh, so now you’re just going to- to what? Make presidential decrees all on your own?” Quackity switches to his sword for a split second, Tubbo catching the movement out of the corner of his eye. 

“Yes,” Tubbo answers simply. “If you’re not going to listen to me, then I give up. If you insist on making me the villain in your story, what can I do but play along?” Taking out his pickaxe, he breaks the iron bars, leaving an opening that Ranboo gingerly squeezes through. Tubbo offers him a hand and pulls him to his feet, giving him a nod. 

“Tubbo, you just let a traitor free. That’s treason, isn’t it?” 

“Y-yeah,” Fundy chimes in, standing helplessly next to the now vacated box. “That’s- You’re a traitor, Tubbo.” 

“So what if I am?” Tubbo loosens his tie, untying it and letting it fall to the floor. 

“I’m done listening to you, Quackity. I’m done being called a traitor, I’m done being called Schlatt, I’m done being called selfish.”

He slips out of his suit jacket, leaving him in a wrinkled white shirt with sleeves that are too long for him. He pushes these up to his elbows, letting the crisp black suit drop to the dusty ground.

“And I’m done being your president. I resign.” Walking to the center of the stage, Tubbo looks down at the crowd below, catching glimpses of confused faces, squinting through the sun. 

“My final statement to the citizens of L’Manberg is: I don’t care anymore. Call me a villain, call me Schlatt, call me a dictator. If the world insists on forcing me into the role of the villain, I’ll leave you to it.” Turning away from the eyes of his audience, Tubbo lets out a deep breath and walks off the platform. Ranboo hesitantly jogs to catch up with him, keeping stride with Tubbo’s quick pace easily. 

“So what happens now, Tubbo?”

“I’m leaving, Ranboo. And I’m not coming back.”

“Well, wh- where are you going?”

“To find Tommy.”


End file.
